solidarity for Assange…

On seeing a meme post on Solidarity Scot’s Facebook timeline today, quoting the great, John MaClean, that said,

I wish no harm to any human being, but I, as one man, am going to exercise my freedom of speech. No human being on the face of this earth, no government, is going to take from me my right to speak, my right to protest against wrong, my right to do everything that is for the benefit of mankind, I am not here then as the accused, I am here as the accuser of capitalism dripping with blood from head to foot”.

my immediate next thought was of Julian Assange, Australian journalist presently entering his 9th year of arbitrary detention in political asylum in the Ecuadorian Embassy, Hans Crescent London. Where he sought political asylum in 2012, when it became clear that his life was at risk of jeopardy having been threatened by several powerful & affluent American politicians and media commentators, for publishing documents exposing war crimes & corruption by world leaders, corporate criminals & politicians from around the world, including the USA & UK.  (1)

I have absolutely no doubt John MaClean would have stood in Solidarity with those who travel from around the world to join the ongoing vigils outside the Ecuadorian Embassy in support of Julian Assange &

Assange’s fight, & plight has come to represent a symbolic last stand for Human Rights, freedom of speech & expression & the free press.

Julian Assange, as the founder of Wikileaks, from the beginning of his Wikileaks journey, sought as an investigative journalist to hold governments and corporate criminals accountable to the public who they are meant to represent., boast a 100% accuracy in the files and documents it publishes, and many of these files have been used in courts of law around the world to bring criminals to book and serve justice. (2)

Since Mr Assange first found himself the subject of allegations of impropriety in Sweden, allegations which he was never charged with, that were reported & shown to be subject of much inconsistency & uncorroborated evidence, which were dropped by complainants & the case closed by Swedish prosecutors Marrianne NY in 2017. (3) (4)

However, it should be noted that from the beginning of his ordeal Julian Assange has made ever attempt to cooperate with authorities both in Sweden and the UK, as the timeline of his ordeal reflects.

Julian surrendered himself to Swedish authorities for questioning before leaving Sweden and was granted permission to leave, and given the belief, the case against him was closed, before Marianne NY, reopened the case and began her pursuit, and what some might suggest, a vendetta against Mr Assange.
Assange also surrendered himself to Uk police when it became known to him that the allegations against him in Sweden had been reopened and he was sought for questioning. (5)

Indeed, during that period in 2010, Julian Assange was subjected to a period of imprisonment in London, despite no charges ever having been made against him.
In addition on his release from prison he agreed to house arrest and being tagged, and while Swedish & UK officials conspired to delay justice, which recent FOI documents released to Italian investigative journalist Stefani Maurizi reflect,

“The then Crown Prosecution lawyer, Paul Close, wrote to his counterparts Ola Lofgren and Marianne Ny in Sweden in 2011 repeating his earlier advice that “in my view, it would not be prudent for the Swedish authorities to try to interview the defendant in the UK”. (6)

Even after seeking political asylum in the Ecuadorian Embassy, Julian Assange and his legal team were doing everything within their power to resolve the issues to question him in relation to the allegations against him, and indeed to secure his safe passage onward to Equador or somewhere he would be safe from extradition to the United States where he believed his life would be at risk, and he may face espionage allegations and the death penalty. These fears of extradition which the US denied, but which have now been shown to be justified and true. (7) (8)
Reflecting further, that throughout his ordeal, it is not Mr Assange who has sought to mislead the public, quite the opposite, while he has told the truth, it is those who seek to silence and harm him who have offered falsehoods and blatant lies, to divert and delay the course of justice, while adding stress and harm to Julian’s health conditions affected by the conditions of his arbitrary detention, & political asylum. (9)

In recent days Julian Assange’s plight has been back in the headlines as he ends his eighth year of arbitrary detention, with a visit on 21st December, from his father John Shipton & German MP’s, Sevim Dagdelen and Heike Hansel. (10)

Interviewed outside the Ecuadorian Embassy, Mr Shipton expressed his concerns about his sons declining health, resulting from six years without access to natural sunlight, fresh air & exercise.
Mr Shipton said it was time his son’s torment ended. (11)

I agree with Julian’s father.

Torment and abuse of Julian Assange’s human rights that have now, somewhat ironically, become part of the political asylum conditions, since the governance of Equador, no longer under the precedence of Rafael Correra, but governed by the dictate of its new precedent Lenin Moreno, who has succumbed to the pressures & bribes of America and the IMF.

Since March 28th 2018, Moreno has made radical changes to the terms of Julian Assange’s asylum conditions issuing strict rules that in practice violate not only Julian’s human rights but the human rights of lawyers and other people wishing to visit Julian. All visitors, including lawyers, have to surrender their phones and devices and adhere to strict communication protocols that breach normal standards.

The Embassy has also cut off his access to the internet, restricted his visiting hours and introduced charges for various things including phone calls. These new rules have further isolated Mr Assange who is now said to be 80% isolated for humane interactions and contact (12)

On the 21st December, the United Nations working group on arbitrary detention,  OHCHC/ WGAD, experts reiterated that UK government should honour rights obligations and let Mr Julian Assange leave Ecuador embassy in London freely.

They stated,

“States that are based upon and promote the rule of law do not like to be confronted with their own violations of the law, that is understandable. But when they honestly admit these violations, they do honour the very spirit of the rule of law, earn enhanced respect for doing so, and set worldwide commendable examples,”

So, all these facts considered, I go back to the quote that prompted these thoughts about the plight of Julian Assange, the quote by the great John MaClarn, I saw posted on Solidarity Scots facebook timeline, and I stand with Assange as I have done for the past nine years in defence of human rights.

I feel great shame that no Scottish or UK MP’s were signatories of a letter signed by over 30 European parliamentarians, to the UN Secretary-General, demanding UK government abide by the findings of the OHCHC/ WGAD.

And I ask my comrades to stand with me against the Westminster Tyrants and their corporate cronies, and co-conspirators who have conspired to silence Julian Assange and abused, not only his human rights, but his rights of political asylum, in respect of the Geneva Convention 1951 , and

I ask my comrades  at SOLIDARITY SCOTLAND, to join me on my next trip to London to stand in SOLIDARITY with Julian Assange, & with those brave accusers who stand with Julian at ongoing vigils, at 3 HANS CRESENT, LONDON, to protect Julian Assange, his rights to speak, to express and the rights of the free press to share, as a humanitarian and a journalist ,evidence of those who stand accused of abuse , these capitalist tyrants,  as I know the great John MaClean would have stood with me in protest for the rights of JULIAN ASSANGE and others like him, who speak to oppose and expose the kind of abuses Julian Assange has suffered these past 9 years.




Grenfell tower fire

It been a while since I posted anything here, and I certainly didn’t expect to be writing about such a tragic event like the Grenfell tower fire in London this week.

I had been basking in the joy and blessing of my new granddaughters birth on the 11th June, and had just returned from dropping my youngest son at Glasgow airport , he and his girlfriend had flew in to meet his elder brothers new baby and were heading back to Spain where they work after a very short and happy visit.

It was around 4.50am when I switched on the tv while having a quick cuppa before heading to bed, and saw the blazing invero of the tower block and I was brought back to earth with a thud , filling with horror , tears and emotion for all involved.

I’v experianced a house fire, twice in fact.

The first time was when my daughter was about 3 and 1/2 years old and we were living in a tenement on the Maryhill rd above the chemist where the fire started.

My daughter had got up during the night and came to my bed, the firemen told me later, it had probably saved her life as the fire had started in the back of the chemest below her bedroom , her bed was black with soot and smoke damage, and the fireman said had she been in it she would have been unlikly to have survived the smoke inhilation, the whole house was smoke damaged , that smell, it lingers and becomes a trigger.

The firemen were great , they woke me , got us out the house and also the other neighbours in the building. We were lucky and greatful not just for the job the firemen did saving our lives, and our home , but the kindness of the old couple who lived accross the street, who took us dressed in pyjamas with bare feet, in till we were checked over by paramedics , giving us blankets and phoning my dad to come get us and take us to my mums.

Years later when my eldest son was about 2 years old we were living at the high flats at Cedar st, where I grew up, and where my parents lived.

It was the fire in my home  that night, I remembered when I watched the Grenville fire unfold on tv.

The fire that night stared in my baby sons room,  a portable tv, I used to leave on for sound, which I felt kept him company, had caught fire.

It was around 11PM, I’d just got out the bath and was about to do some  ironing, & watch “Cell block H”, my dog began behaving strangly, agitated, and when I went to see what was bothering him,the fire alarm in the hall began to ring. As I reached the top of the stairs I could see the smoke coming from the babies room.

I remember running down the stairs and grabbing him out of the cot, then to my daughters room and waking her, getting them both out the flat, handing my daughter the baby, telling her to go down to there grans on the 5th floor, not to panic, to tell her gran to phone the firebrigade. I was kinda in auto pilot,  we lived on the 11th.

Neighbors came to help, they had already phoned the brigade, wee Jonny Linch , my hero, a lad of about 13 years of age. He ran in to the house , shouting

“Were’s yer cats june?”

Running up the stairs before I could stop him , in a flat black with smoke already filling the hall way , as I soaked towels to lay accross the bottom of the door of the room where the fire was, having already turned off the main power box supply.

It was terrefying, Wee Jonny Linch, came back down the stairs ,

” I open the veranda door for the cats” he said. ” we need tae get the fuck oot a here”

By then the fire brigade had arrived, and as they opened the bedroom door with big sheilds up, the window blew out, but these heros soon had the fire contain, under control and out.

No one was hurt, although there was extensive smoke damage . The children were taken Yorkhill childrens hospital to be checked for smoke inhilation. Where they were met by partner who had been working  at the time. I was taken to The Western Infirmary, accompanied by Charlie the local beat policeman, an aquaintance through the dance club I ran for local kids. He who had just finnished his shift and offered to keep me company at the hospital while I went through the blood test and waited for the all clear. I was greatful, for his comforting reasurances and kind words during those frightening , anxious , caotic initial hours after the incident.

It probably seems strange , but I don’t remember the date of either of these fires I experianced. Nor  do I remember what I had been doing early on the days they happened.

All I remember is the fear, the anxciety, the smell, and the stinging eyes from the smoke. I remeber the proffesionalism of the emergancy services and what they did , their bravery.

I remember how Charlie,  who went above and beyond the call of his duty..

I remeber the kindness and concern of neighbors who offered support and well wishes in the aftermath of my badly smoke damaged home.

I , we , were lucky, and as I watched the towering inferno that was Grenfell, I was taken back to that night at  Cedar st, and tears rolled down my face for those resident at Grenfell, those lucky enough to escape with their lives, and those who sadly didn’t.

I thought of all those people accross the UK who will be affected by what they’v seen unfold these last days , those who live in high rise building , and now think

“There but for the grace of god , go I…”

I know the flats at Cedar street are presently undergowing refurbishment, and I  think of them, because even over 20 years on Cedar st, is dear to me, it was home, where I lived on the 5th floor as a child and teenager ,where my partents lived most of their lives.

I think of all high rise  resedent accross the Uk who will be fearful of the state and risks that may be there and the effect recent events will have on their minds.

My heart bleeds for those who have lost everything in the Grenfell disaster, because let their be no doubt, this is a distaster, and I am greatful to all the heros of the frontline services ,and indeed, the ordinary people of the community who remind us of the importance of compassion and community, and compasion in the community  .

Most of all I pray that steps are taken to ensure this never happens again, in the UK or anywhere else, and as a UK Tax payer I demand a full tranparent inquiry and that those responsable for risk assesment and saftey who failed the resident of Grenfell tower are held accountable and brought to book.




“A journey of a million miles begins with one tiny step…”
you took yours now its my turn…

These were the words I scrawled across the freshly decorated wall in the living room of the marital home I was about to leave & lock the door on, for the last time. It was the spring of 1997, and these words felt like a fitting epitaph to my dead marriage.
The kids were waiting in the car on the drive, half an hour earlier I had waved off the van with all our worldly goods including the kitchen furniture, fittings, fixtures and sink, which a dear friend had helped me dismantle a few days earlier. I had been organising this move secretly for weeks, its true what they say ” hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”.

I had chosen this particular quote because my soon to be ex husband had used it when he had persuaded me to give up my independent, happy life as a single mum to one, indeed, he had led me to believe it was his own!!

I was a different person then, I hadn’t heard of Lao Tzu, though I had heard of Confucius, because as a child my mum began every little quote or words of wisdom she liked to say with the words “Confucius say…”

Of course it matters little which of these wise men said it, only that one of them did, because as I stared at that wall I thought, fuck , that’s a great quote!

I felt rather smug as I surveyed my graffiti work, in bright ruby-red lipstick.

He’d called me a crazy bitch many a time, now he was about to learn the extent of what this particular crazy bitch was capable of, and indeed, so was I.
There was little regret as I walked out the house, got in the car and drove away, telling the kids to wave bye-bye to the house. No fear or trepidation, no voice in my head filling it with doubt. I guess, in the moment I embraced it, I felt strong, stronger than I had for a very long time, and of course there was an element of anger, but it could be argued that there is strength in anger.

The months, in fact, the preceding years hadn’t been easy, there had been much to contend with, many emotions to mask and hide from many people, and not just in respect of my marital relationship.

I think its fair to say I had several stressful & emotional issues to contend with and not just in relation to myself but also relating to family health, and that particular journey began in 1995, when within days of  my dad dying unexpetedly from a heart attack and cremaiting him, I went for an antinatel scan and was told I had to be confined to hospital there and then. I had a grade A placenta previa and would have to spend the next 11 weeks confined to the hospital & bed rest. They agreed to give me a day or two max, to organise the family and I was addmitted for the next 11 weeks.

I was understandable distressed. I had a poorly, disabled, frail mother who was grieving to look after and support, not to mention two other children aged 4 & 12 who had lost their grandpa who needed to be looked after and supported, and I was well aware my husband wasn’t up to takeing care of them all properly, he was too busy working unsocial hours as a DJ, and fucking about with other women under the guise of buying and selling second-hand cars, though to be fair , he did fit a bit of that in too.

Of course I had no option but to go into hospital for the safety of my unborn baby and indeed my own health risk, so I made arrangements for the kids to stay with my mum. Friends, her neighbours and relatives, rallied round to help mum, and I tried to convince myself it helped support her though the moarning period.

Sometime, later when my baby was born, in the early summer I was diagnosed with postnatal depression. I would pinpoint this as my first proper diognosis of depression, although hindsight suggests I had lived with depression for many years before.

It was then I was fortunate to be guided by a very wise woman called Mrs Forbs, who was my health visitor who told me it wasnt surprising that I was suffering depression given I hadn’t even had time to grieve my dad before the pregnancy complications set in, and there was other stuff too, but as I said that was just the beginning of the journey….

In recent weeks I have reflected on The Hethen Project trying to put together an “about” description of where it began and what it is, for the purpose of this website I realised that I’ve been doing something my dad often found me guilty of , “putting the cart before the horse” because The Hethen Project is a path on the journey of a girl from Glasgow, a path still being forged with a horizon beyond, and it is also a seed sown on the path planted by a wise woman known as Mrs Forbs, but that is another chapter, for another day ….

A journey thru the Italian countryside in Piemonte

It’s difficult to describe the splendor that graced my eyes as I travled by train through the Italian countryside from Milan to Lavorno Ferarrais in Piemonte, never before can I remember seeing such beautiful countryside.

In recent days there has been heavy rain in the region, that remained hidden in the fields of green and gold creating an artist dream, as it sparkled in the sunshine like diamond dust, sprinkled, in the lush green rice fields and among the corn crops that stretched for miles like green blankets towards the distant horizon of black, snow -capped mountains, that seemed to caress the soft white clouds, floating in the pale blue sky, at times making it difficult to define where the snow topped peaks ended and the clouds began.

Between the field’s small canal’s of clear water flowed, shining, as they rippled and danced in the sunshine. Some, I guess, man-made, to irrigate the fields, or perhaps as I prefer to believe blessing of Nympha, Lacturna, Matura, Nodotus & Volutina to nurture nature ,our beautiful planet and all that inhabits it.

Later as I sat alone in the courtyard of my friends beautiful old farmhouse, with its own interesting tale and place in local history.

Watching the moon float in a dark blue sky surrounded by sparkling stars I felt touched by the spirit’s in the sky and lush field’s that surrounded me. Sitting quietly ,this old Heathen gave her own quiet thanks to the gods, and spirits that I could feel filling my soul with a deep sence of peace and joy, the likes of which I have not felt for many a day.  I felt greatful & blessed to have friends who lived in such a paradise whose hospitality and kindness allowed me to experienceDSC_0959 such beauty and splendor of nature , that made me feel glad and thankful to be alive.



starman… 1947-2016

The starman, now…

back on his way

having fell from Mars

back in the day…

a lad insane

at times they said

& yes, sometimes

he went off his head

from Time to time

& station to station…


The rebel rebel with painted face

a crusading hero full of grace…

the golden years he did embraced

though fame,

had brought it highs &


oftime’s his woes, and raw emotions showed

in lyrical soulful sound & vision

shared with all on radio waves & television

the lodger

loving the alien…

the heathen

soul he held within…

a hero,  an idol ,

he couldn’t stay

a star man who stopped along the way

to share his genius & walk among us

back off on his voyage …

beyond the infinite








old friends…

I felt sad today, and it came on me very suddenly and caught me off guard.

I feel it relevant to the Hethen Project as it happened in a place where my writing and arts as a therapy began almost 20 years ago, so let me give you some background.

In 1995 following a very difficult pregnancy with eleven weeks confined to the maternity ward & the birth of my youngest son I suffered from post natal depression, I was put on anti depressants but they really were not helping me at all, if anything I felt worse. My health visitor a wonder lady and beautiful soul, Elizabeth Forbs, recommended I find something for me, some June time she called it , away from family , home and responsibilities, my hobbies, she asked what my interest were and when I told her she recommended I contact the Harbour Arts Center in Irvine and join some groups, so I did.

I joined the writers group and the drama group and I know now, much better than I realized at the time, just how much that put me on the road to recovery, and finding a little of the me I hadn’t realized I’d lost, at that time.

When my problems relating to the issues I had in 2007-20011-12 which are reflected in the Justice uk style section of the Hethen Project which relates to things I was posting about on various social media websites, blog spot entries and facebook pages which i got locked out of accused of apparently being a fake me account!!!,…

Anyway, justice uk style was the seed of the Hethen Project, an I guess when it all hit the preverbial at that time my subconcious memory of how writing and art had got me thru that post natal depression and other problems I was having at a previous time became the link to mesh or bandaid that held me together, where the link conects in my mind between the Harbour Arts center and art as a therapy for me.

I have written my thots and dreams and all sorts of things down since I was a child, perhaps as an only child it becomes your invisible friend, your unseen sister or brother just a connection of communication with for the secret things you can’t talk about to your parents, everyone has these sort of generation issues.

The shoulder to cry on becomes your diary page , cos growing up as  in adulthood best friends are not or cannot always be there, so for me I wrote things down, it was my support my therapy that lightened the load, from there a pattern develops I think and when i couldn’t talk about things I wrote them down, or drew pictures about them, child psychologist do it with children, as play therapy exercise, of course it works with adults too, i learned to do it myself as an only child, so I have a record of who i’v been.

Writing poetry kept me sane, writing Hethen the story, was a way of writing my truth, as I was experiencing it in the only way I knew how to write, I don’t know how to write academically,and frankly, academic papers don’t raise awareness with the general public where the awareness is needed, because frankly, their fucking boring and difficult to read for the average working class person trying to hold down a job and raise their wanes to be good people, anyway I diversify sorry,how I write, well its just not how its done  apparently, but it kept me alive, and it kept me fighting , It stopped me feeling stupid and like I might be losing my mind, cos I knew I wasn’t.

I was totally aware of what was happening to me, but could not understand why it was., all the time becoming more stressed, anxious and yes paranoid, I had cause to be, and to this day have evidence to prove that, which of course in its self raises the question of its only paranoia if its not really happening , which it was , and thus for me it was a were a major factor .

So where am I going with this,

Since I started the Hethen project, I’v been fairly reclusive, paranoia does that to humans, so does fear and bullying, and of course that to makes you the victim, you distance yourself from people, and to be honest, in my case, when I was going through the issues from 2008 to 2011 most of the friends I had dropped away or disappeared, even my closest friends couldn’t handle how I was behaving, but they weren’t wearing my moccasins.

I left Telford and came back to Scotland, not just because I wanted to be near my family, but because between the Telford & Wrekin Housing Trust, Telford & Wrekin council, The DHSS & West Mercia Police I was made to feel dehumanized, and the fact is, whither that sounds like i’m being over dramatic or not, that is what happens when your human rights are abused. To this day I have the legal documentation that proves my human rights were abused and I was the victim of a crime of violence at the hands of police officers, in my own home, who were there on a concern for welfare incident ,that was not a legal matter or issue, I was denied my right to a fair trial and justice for the crimes against me none of which were a result of my errors but by errors by these same named government departments with a legal obligation to my welfare & civil rights, who were frankly bullying and intimidating me, to the point where I feared from my life, genuinely, and when I let it was because I didn’t think I would make it through another winter if I stayed.

For the three years since, I’v continued to try to find my feet, and it hasn’t been easy, my kids and I avoid talking about that period of my , of our lifes , and by and large I don’t go out much, and dont socialize, but i’m not living , I feel like a large part of me has merely existed.,although, I feel there is a reason I continue to exsist and part of that, and what keeps me going again is writing, my art and the Hethen Project which is incomplete and on going.

In the past 12 months I have tried to push myself to move on to the next phase of the Hethen Project and to do that I know I need to find that lost part of me again, my confidence, my ability to be around others without being paranoid or afraid of being me, and so, I went back a few weeks ago to the Harbour arts center, and why I was there today and found myself caught of my guard and feeling sad.

There are two members of the group still there who were original members when I was there twenty years since, one of them now leads the group, a dear friend, who back during that period of my life came to be like a brother who supported me through the break up of my marriage, the death of my mother and visited me on the psychiatric ward with books and a shoulder to cry on when my life went arse for elbow first time around.

The other a lovely lady and former teacher who used to type up and help me edit “A Girl From Glasgow” in its 1st draft., which was no easy task given some of it was written long hand and she transferred it to floppy and printed it out for me and my spelling well, there’s no doubt it must have been a nightmare for a teacher!! but she was always kind, patient and helpful with little constructive critiques, suggestions guidance and encouragement.

Today was the first time I had noticed this lovely lady on her feet and walking and thus I was caught unawares and felt sad, helpless in fact as a rush of mixed memories washed over me in an instant, nothing to do with writing, or art more to do with old friends, the passing of time and how things link us to our past and I guess on to the future…

My dear friend is crippled with arthritis and as I saw her walk out at the end of group I saw reflections of that same determined but painful walk of the those inflicted with arthritis, my own mother had , she had rheumatoid, and indeed one of my last conversations with Moira before I travelled south was s, when we were sat during the break in group at the bar drinking tea and she held my hand and comforted me regarding my mums passing,


It has been suggested that the only remaining factor from Orwell’s 1984 not to be operational is the thought police, I disagree and suggest the thought police agenda was in fact among the 1st agendas of government to be strategized initially through church & psychiatry & latterly through media & now mass surveillance.
The church has long used the threat of define retribution to control & implant thoughts into the minds of the masses, & in psychiatry what is cognitive behavioral therapy if not thought control & mind manipulation? yes it may have it’s positive aspects but every positive has a negative.
Brain washing techniques developed by medical & military scientists and strategists for the purpose of war propaganda & indeed torture are now common place practice in media for the purpose of corporate exploitation in advertising and in tv, film & all other media entertainment formats to manipulate & influence opinion for every aspect of life so to deny that the thought police are not an integral part of government practice seems farcical.
& now we have mass government surveillance, bloggers arrested & imprisoned for sharing opinions which are of more often than not, personal thoughts, be they good or bad in context of content, which of course is itself subjective to personal interpretation & opinion/thought, if they are not enacted in actions they remain only thoughts.
Tweeters have also been arrested for sharing thoughts or opinions, sometimes merely thought provoking sometimes insightful and sometimes just merely a case of emotional outburst with no intent, perhaps stupid & careless to share but none the less little more than a thought that’s passed through their head that they’ve shared.
I strongly support freedom of speech & expression and am aware of the issues related to incitement & offence however that is not what this blog is about, its about the denial of the thought police idea as reflected by Orwell & the denial that this sector of global government strategy and agenda is not already up and running because i suggest that evidence suggests it most definitely is and has been since long before 1984 was published or even thought of.


he stands alone

He stands alone
clear waters flows
where once he roamed
where will he go
he wonders …

where will he find resting ground?
where do the hooded seals abound?
what shall he eat?
What of his friend the arctic fox?
will all sign of him be lost?
what will do, where will he go?
will he be lost forever more
what of the reindeer where will they go?
when there is no ice left
no sign of snow?

images (11) polar bear

nature elements …the sun

  • Yesterday evening I had a conversation with a friend on Twitter who asked me;
    What facinates you most Light, rain or wind?I paused at first, not sure what he meant, then answered that light facinated me least & explained what I LIKE about wind & rain.

    Later, early this morning, I awoke with this on my mind realising I had misunderstood the question , my confusion, I think began with the word light, what I think my friend meant when he said light was sun, we were descussing nature, a thunder storm had just bagan to happen outside & I had said I was going to go out for a walk as I like the rain thunder & lightening.

    I am in truth, facinated by all of nature in all its glory & wonderment, all of it facinates me, captivates me, enthrals me, I love it, how it works in compliment with all things working in seemingly effortless cooperation.

    I can sit in quiet contemplation of it all in peaceful contentment & just absorb the all of it, watching insect busy about, trees dance, or waves gentley caress the shore as they ebb & flow, the smells, the feel everything about it is just so full of everything that bares relevance to life itself, it is truely awesome.

    I had answered that I was least facinated by light, I think as a result of how I had misinterpreted what he had said or meant, had he said the sun, I may have answered differently, I’m not sure, had we been descussing the elements as opposed to nature & weather, I would have said I was probably most facinated by fire, & fire is associated with the sun, the sun being a big burning planet of fire, persay. Its flaming colour, the heat it radeates, all aspects of fire, & yes fire most definatly facinates me beyond a shadow of doubt.

    I can & do often sit for hours watching the flames of a fire dance, the smoke weave & rise & shapechange.
    I see things in the flames, smoke & burning embers that captivate & fill me with curiosity, wonder, excitement & a whole array of other emotions/feelings.
    I have literally thousands of photographs of fires & flames because fire & all that it is, & does, & that I see within it, inspires much of my art projects, I take pictures to preserve the moment as it happens because it changes so quickly, I like to be able to preserve the second for later reflection & I guess to reaasure myself that what I saw in the flames smoke & burning embers was not just my imagination running away with me.
    And yes, I realise that may seem a little wierd to some ppl but I am a little wierd according to many people so what the hell!

    Of course thats not to say other elements are less facinating to me, they are not, all of nature with all its aspects & charms, wonders & beauty, facinate me for very different, & often quite specific reasons, however that is topic for future blogs when I shall perhaps explain my facination with the elements of air, water & earth & ideed other elementals & aspects of nature.

The Hethen Project

The Hethen Project is an art project developed following the most difficult period in my life to date which occurred between 2007 & 2012, & till the present day…

I think its fair to suggest that 2007 was the beginning of the gestation period,
the long pregnancy of stress, anxiety & depression of a brewing meltdown of mind, body & spirit which finally hit the proverbial on and around the 7th February 2009, & from that moment The Hethen Project was born.

The seed or idea which the project developed from was a self-help therapy & health management program/project to get me through the meltdown of that time, & grew from a project idea I had as part of my degree modules while studying Health & social welfare & social policy at Wolverhampton University for my foundation degree &then BA( which circumstance dictated I was unable to complete).

Ironically, had it not been for the beaurocratic errors made by local authorities at that time I would not have been faced with the circumstances that led to the meltdown, but all things happen for a reason & therefore I have no regrets in that regard.

THE HETHEN PROJECT charts social, legal & health issues that led to, were, & indeed still are, kinda ongoing .

Gallary menu reflects a selection of collections of paintings, sketches, drawings, photography & sculptured wood pieces that became my fundamental medication in my recovery journey from that time.

Poetry menu will take you to a selection o poetry & recitals with images from the art project.
The poetry was written before, during & since, and is an ongoing project.

Some of the poems are also incorporated into the text of HETHEN the creative writing project, inspired by a stranger, I met on the internet the key to my survival & recovery My Key, at that time, had it not been for their support I may not have made it through some of the harder moments.

My Key was my key to opening the door to me, my art & the strength within to get me through that very difficult period, & indeed it is their inspiration that helped me begin to find the me I’m trying to be today, even going on the meltdown days.